


Watching

by parabolica (orphan_account)



Category: Eye Candy (TV)
Genre: M/M, ToT: Chocolate Box, Voyeurism, creepers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 13:31:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8403508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/parabolica
Summary: Charlie's watching. Always.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/gifts).



Sometimes, when the syntax of code starts to lose its coherence, or motivation blurs, or his mood slips, Charlie lays aside his mask (or several masks, for he has built himself into a series of perfectly moulded carapaces, shell corporations inside false identities inside artificial intelligences inside the dark web) and mutes all sound and narrows his focus from several screens to just one.

With a single keystroke, he banishes the images, the numbers, the data streams, and watches Tommy Calligan move around the city. 

From the centre of the web of CCTV cameras that enmesh the city, Charlie tracks Tommy’s every footstep. Along the sidewalk. Into a grocery store. On the subway. In a bar. Every moment captured, no matter how mundane, how fleeting. The very ephemerality of it fascinates him. Life and code are so similar, yet so different. One is created with purpose; the other, created at random, has purpose imposed upon it.

It’s easy, when he’s seated behind his screens, when he can bring about chaos and destruction with the touch of a button, when his favourite command is _execute_ , to pretend he’s godlike. All that watching at a remove. All that disinterested meddling.

Except where Detective Calligan is concerned, what he feels is far from disinterest.

When it’s raining, Charlie changes the timings on pedestrian crossings so Tommy can get home quicker. When Tommy’s had a bad day (Charlie can always tell: Not only from a brief perusal of the data logs in the Cyber Crimes Unit, but also from Tommy’s demeanour when he leaves the office), Charlie hooks into the simple little computer inside the cash register in Tommy’s favourite bar and clears his tab.

One night, slightly drunk, slightly unsteady on his feet, Tommy took a short-cut. The CCTV cameras showed a guy in a hoodie emerge from a doorway, sliding a blade from his pocket. On silent feet the guy followed Detective Calligan through an alley. The lack of sound infuriated Charlie. All he had was the beat of his heart and the click of keys depressing, faster and faster. And then on screen came the visual reaction to an audible shock—the guy in the hoodie jumped, startled, and Tommy spun around, police training kicking in above instinct. The CCTV feed remained silent, but Charlie knew that down on the street, a whole host of alarms had gone off. Property alarms, car alarms, hell, even mobile phone alarms, all blaring a warning.

Tommy had got home safe that night.

Charlie intends for him to get home safe every night. Detective Calligan is his, now. Every move. Every step.

And sometimes, Tommy pauses on a street corner or at the ATM or in a store, and looks directly into the all-seeing eye of the camera, and he mouths, _Thank you_.


End file.
